She Could've, He Wouldn't
by schizofreeky
Summary: [GC, post-ep hc] In a game where nobody wins..


Rating: G

Category: Post-ep, angst, h/c

Spoiler: Minor allusions to Butterflied

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.

Feedback: Yay or nay. Here or here (schizofreeky@yahoo.com). Appreciated muchly. (",)  
   
  


  
**She Could've, He Wouldn't**  
  


"It's now or never." She repeated to herself as she entered the building in quick strides. She glanced at her watch and saw that she still had an hour before the shift started.  
  
_Perfect._  
  
She gave the speech she oh-so-meticulously prepared another run through. Rehearsing it over and over in her head until the words receded into a dull humming at the back of her head. The only sound she could hear now was the deafening roar of her heartbeat.  
  
The muted sound of her boots picked up its pace, seemingly propelled by an unseen force as her steps made its way to an office, the route to which she could easily take blindfolded. She swallowed her apprehension down her throat, thwarting its attempt to chase her out of the building and back to her SUV.  
  
Ah yes, she remembered her mantra: _It's now or never_. She took a deep breath and raised her right hand to knock on the door, her left hand already poised to twist on the doorknob.  
  
"He's not here."  
  
A cheery voice behind her broke the trance-like state she was in. She jumped at the sound, startled and shamefaced at the same time. More annoyed at herself for allowing someone to creep up on her like that. Irritation slashed through her features as she turned her anger on the source of intrusion.  
  
"What do you mean he's not here?" A beat. "And what are you doing here?" She spat out the last sentence, sounding more severe than she intended.  
  
"Well, it's nice to see you too, Sara." Nick's voice remained unperturbed. This was, after all, Sara he was talking to. "And yes, the conference went very well, thank you for asking." His eyes held mild amusement.  
  
"You didn't answer my question."  
  
"What, you didn't get the news flash?! Tsk. Tsk. Greggo must be losing his touch."  
  
A blank look was all the response he got.  
  
Nick sighed, "The boss took another night off. That last case must've worn him down pretty bad." His eyes growing serious this time.  
  
"Wait, isn't this supposed to be your night off or something?"  
  
"Or something." He grimaced. "Well, Griss is MIA and it's Catherine's night off so..." Nick trailed off and proceeded to punctuate his statement with a mock stage bow.  
  
He looked up to find himself face to face with just the door to Grissom's office, catching a glimpse of Sara's hair as she rounded up the corner with a speed he didn't know she was capable of.  
  
"You're welcome." Nick shrugged to no one in particular, a wry grin spreading over the angular slant of his jaw.   
  
***************  
  
"Honey?" Catherine softly called out.  
  
Hearing no answer, she gingerly pushed the door open. Her worried eyes instantly melting away as she saw her little angel sprawled on the covers. She bit back a sigh as she started clearing the bed of the clutter her daughter fell asleep on. A notebook, a half-finished artwork, a crossword puzzle, several colored pens.. wait.. a crossword puzzle? She did a double take at the crossword she now had in the crook of her arm. _Good god_, she muttered to herself as she deposited the stuff on a nearby desk. Catherine went back to the bed as she gently repositioned Lindsey and tucked her in.  
  
"Mommy?" Lindsey mumbled, her eyes not opening, her voice heavy with sleep.  
  
"Yes, baby. Mommy's here.." Catherine soothingly whispered into her daughter's ears, not wanting to disturb Lindsey into wakefulness. "Nighty night, sweetie.. Love you.."  
  
"Love you too, mommy.." was Lindsey's muffled response as she crawled deeper under the covers and drifted further into sleep.  
  
Catherine smiled as her lips twisted in irony. She usually didn't have the pleasure of tucking her daughter in. Or watching her sleep, for that matter. On most nights, she wouldn't be here. She'd be out there pounding the pavement, pushing other thoughts at the back of her mind. The kind of thoughts that would make her come running back home and sleep the night away with her daughter cuddled in her arms.  
  
And now her baby's growing up fast, much too soon.  
  
Catherine lovingly brushed the stray hair off of Lindsey's face. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent that was Lindsey, mingled with the faint strawberry mist of her bath gel and the fruity flavor of Lindsey's favorite toothpaste.  
  
_Home._  
  
Catherine gave one last look at Lindsey before she flicked off the switch and quietly closed the door.  
  
***************  
  
Catherine padded to the kitchen, rinsed out the dishes and restored the half-empty bottle of vodka into its resting place. After making a cursory inspection of the locks, she killed the lights and made her way to the living room, now the only fully lit part of the house.  
  
She leaned against the wall and chuckled at the all too familiar sight that greeted her. There, on her couch, lay the sleeping form of Gil Grissom -- head lolling to one side, glasses hanging precariously from the bridge of his nose, and left hand connecting at an unnatural angle with the floor. The other hand lay carelessly on top of the long forgotten paperback novel that Cath recognized as one of hers. Bare feet propped up on the far end of the couch completed the look.  
  
She dragged her gaze away from Gil's white tank and gray sweats ensemble and rested her eyes on the nearly identical outfit she had on. Catherine let out a snort before walking towards the inert figure. They looked like the middle-aged poster figures for His & Hers sleepwear. A decade ago, it would've fallen under the "cute" category. Now, it's just plain freaky.  
  
Catherine placed her hands on her waist and shook her head in silent resignation. For the second time that evening and for the third time in the last 48 hours, she found herself playing the role of a glorified yet underpaid babysitter. A role that she didn't mind in the least bit. It was also one she knew all too well.  
  
_Mom._  
  
Catherine cautiously pried Grissom's hand away from the book and gently took off his glasses. Both of which quickly joined the baseball cap on the coffee table. She stood over him and debated for a moment on letting Grissom move to the guest room where there'd be more space to accommodate his 5'11 frame. Not that he'd ever complained about other nights he'd spent on this couch.

But Cath quickly perished the thought when she saw the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. It would be a shame to wake him now.  
  
The slight twitching of his eye brought her attention to his face. He looked peaceful. Well, as peaceful as Gil Grissom would allow himself to be, Catherine mused to herself. Even in sleep, she silently added. If it's any consolation, he certainly looked more relaxed than he'd been when he appeared at her doorstep a few hours ago....  
  
***************  
  
"Hey Cath..."  
  
Catherine opened the door to the tired smile and bloodshot eyes of her best friend.  
  
"Well, hellooo handsome! And here I thought you'd be sleeping for the next couple of days.." The twinkle in her eyes barely enough to conceal her urge to lunge at Gil and nurse him back to health like she would an injured puppy.  
  
But all he saw was the teasing eyes and warm smile of Catherine Willows.  
  
_Thank god_, she thought to herself. She wouldn't want Gil to run back screaming to his Tahoe. Which is what exactly he would have done had he seen the slightest hint of pity written anywhere on her face.  
  
She closed the door behind him and followed Grissom to the living room.  
  
"So.. to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Grissom?" Catherine waited for Gil to finally face her. She then allowed an appraising smile to grace her lips as she slowly took in the jogger's outfit, deliberately taking her time as her eyes traveled the length of his body.  
  
Grissom, on the other hand, was trying to appear as nonchalant as he could. Though his reddening ears and the slight smirk curving his lips gave him away. Catherine, inordinately pleased at getting the intended reaction from Gil, plowed on.  
  
"Hmm.. let me see. The last time I saw you, you were safely tucked within the confines of your bedroom, dead to the world." She moved closer and peered at him. "Well, you certainly look a lot cleaner..," She paused, pulling back a little and crossing her arms as she surveyed the rest of him. "..but honey, you still look like hell."  
  
Gil gaped for a second and then burst out laughing.  
  
Only Catherine would have the balls to throw such an honest assessment to his face. And actually get away with it. Everyone else walked on eggshells around him.  
  
"Very observant, Ms. Willows. Such flattery astounds me," Gil sputtered in between gasps.  
  
"And I live to amuse you." Cath smirked at him, inwardly glad that she made some progress in making Gil look a little less grim.  
  
Gil returned a goofy grin of his own, acknowledging the concern in her eyes but nevertheless thankful that Cath chose not to smother him with it. He then took off his cap and fiddled with it, eyes sliding to the floor as he sat on the arm rest of the couch. Catherine joined him and waited patiently for Gil to break his silence.  
  
"I wanted to thank you.. for everything," he started, thinking back on how Catherine drove him home, fed him, and came close to pushing him towards the shower. He smiled fondly as he remembered how she stayed by his side until sleep finally claimed him. Just like old times.  
  
"Aww.. you didn't have to drive all the way here to say that. You know how I _looove_ being in control." Her tone was light but there was a faint blush that tainted her cheeks, her mind taking her back to those times over the years when he'd done the same for her.  
  
The clock ticked away as they sat in companionable silence.  
  
Gil cleared his throat. "I couldn't," he blurted out. A beat. He tried again, "I couldn't..."  
  
"...sleep?" Cath finished the thought for him. She felt him nod in response.  
  
Gil turned to her. Grateful blue eyes squarely met hers and unspoken words went back and forth.  
  
Catherine finally stood up, took the cap from his hands and tossed it on the coffee table. Gil released the breath he wasn't even aware he was holding.  
  
She pretended not to notice.  
  
"Cath, you ok with this? I don't want to.."  
  
"Oh please, like you even have to ask?" Catherine raised an eyebrow at him, effectively cutting him off. "Come on, you big bear. Brooding time's over." She grabbed his hand, pulling him to an upright position and cocked her head towards the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ready. I'll go get Lindsey."  
  
Catherine didn't see the wistful smile that touched Grissom's lips as he watched her saunter off. It was the same look he always had whenever he's looking at her.  
  
When he thinks nobody's looking.  
  
Sighing to himself, Gil went to the kitchen, now sporting a slight spring in his steps.  
  
***************  
  
Catherine retrieved the discarded jacket and draped it over a chair. She left the room for a few minutes and returned with a blanket tucked under her arm. She then spread the quilted sheet on Grissom, and knelt beside the couch to move his arms to a more comfortable angle. Too lazy to stand up and walk around the sofa, Catherine was reaching over his head to turn off the lamp when Grissom suddenly shifted his weight.  
  
Her hand froze in mid-air as Grissom curled to the side, now facing her, and snuggled under the cover. Catherine did not dare breathe, never more aware that any slight movement on her part might send his eyes fluttering open.  
  
_Not now_, she mentally prayed to whoever might be listening. Not when she was practically looming over him. And certainly not now when his face was mere inches -- no, make that centimeters -- away from getting up close and personal with her 'girls.' Who by the way were dangerously close to falling out of her tank top at that very instant. Hell, he'd probably think she was on the verge of molesting him. Catherine cringed at the thought.  
  
A minute had passed before she deemed it safe enough to expel the breath she was holding. Gil was now as still as the night.  
  
Catherine, still kneeling by the couch, brushed back the errant curl that was resting on his forehead. She let her fingers hover a while longer, tracing the lines that marred Gil's otherwise tranquil countenance. Her heart ached at seeing those fine lines that spoke volumes of his inner pain and confusion. Catherine's own forehead wrinkled in thought. She wanted to erase those lines with the sheer power of gaze.  
  
Her thoughts flitted back to the conversation they had after dinner as the two of them spent hours talking and not talking.  
  
Three guesses on who's the one not talking. Catherine almost laughed out loud.  
  
***************  
  
A bottle and a half later, guess again who's talking up a storm. Yeah, he's a talker alright. Cath smiled to herself. Brass is probably the only other one privy to that piece of information.  
  
The man could talk about anything and everything. Anything and everything except the one thing that was truly bothering him.  
  
Catherine wasn't the least bit surprised.  
  
She could've pried, but she chose not to. She knew she would've appreciated the gesture, if the situation were reversed.  
  
He could've shared the burden with her. Trust was never an issue between them. He would've trusted her with his life.  
  
But that wasn't it.  
  
Catherine saw the internal struggle in his eyes. Right there and then, she realized maybe even before he did that he was fighting a lost cause to begin with.  
  
_He couldn't… He wouldn't… _

Twas the same difference actually.  
  
Grissom had perfected the art of talking in circles a long time ago. Saying so much yet revealing nothing at all. Not until he was ready. Which could easily mean tomorrow, next week, or not ever.  
  
She was just glad that he's not shutting her out this time. Well, at least not completely.  
  
Catherine did not take offense. That was just Gil being Gil. She knew by now that Grissom's not big on letting his guard down, not for anyone. Not even for himself.  
  
Not very much unlike her to some extent, she reflected as she continued to listen to Grissom drone on and on about some new pet of his.  
  
***************  
  
Catherine finally stood up, walked over to the other side of the couch and dimmed the lights.  
  
There were questions on his face that she couldn't possibly answer. Questions he couldn't even bring himself to ask. Questions she wouldn't know the answers to.  
  
She could've simply asked. She knew that. He naturally wouldn't have answered. She expected as much.  
  
It was a game they've always played. They've been at it for years.  
  
"Goodnight, Gil." She whispered into the darkness.  
  
  
END


End file.
